Saturday, December 26, 2015

The Christmas Snail

Each year the girls buy Christmas Tree ornaments at the Ten Thousand Villages sale here in town. This year Eldest bought a snail, and dad was given the challenge of writing the story of the Christmas Snail. Here is what developed:

They didn't even see
me. But then I am used to that. Nobody ever sees us snails. Or when
they do the make rude noises and squish us or run away as if we were
some disgusting monster. I think only spiders get treated worse than
us.

At any rate I saw it
all. From beginning to end I was there. Unlike those uppity other
animals you might hear about I don't think I had anything to do with
what happened. I just watched it. And I will never forget it. I don't
really understand, because I am only a snail. But I will never forget
it.

It almost made me
run and jump. But, well, you know, snails aren't really great at
that.

Do you want to hear
my version of the story?

It was a strange
day. There I was in Nazareth, creeping along, trying to stay moist,
when this foot just missed me. It was a man leading a donkey. Then
the donkey hoof just missed me on the other side. Around then I
decided maybe I would stay still. You know, to recover from the
fright. But fate, it seems, had other plans.

As the donkey's back
hoof came by it kicked me forward. At the same time a bundle of cloth
fell off the donkey's back. The bundle and I landed together in a
heap. Grumbling about how far they had to go and the delay and the
time, the man stopped and bent over to get the bundle of cloth, and
of course I got scooped up along with it. Before I knew it I was
stuck on the back of the donkey, heading who knew where.

That was a horrible
journey. Day after day in the hot sun! I was sure I would get fried.
Luckily there were lots of nooks and crannies in the baggage so I
could find a place to hide. And between the morning dew and the
donkey sweat and the occasional splash of water while the man and
woman were drinking I got just enough moisture to keep from totally
drying out.

I had no idea where
we were going. It appeared they did not want to go but they said that
they had no choice. The woman was very pregnant. The man was very
worried. The donkey was smelly and tired. The woman was tired. The
man was getting anxious. The donkey just wanted to stop, the man had
to keep urging it forward.

Finally we came to
another city. Bethlehem I think the man said its name was. It was
late in the day. Thankfully the sun was almost down and it was
getting cooler. I was starting to shrivel up. The man sounded much
more relaxed when he said:
“Tonight we will have a real bed in
a real building. No more sleeping on the hard cold ground. And maybe
a real meal for a change. I still have family here, I am sure one of
them can take us in.”

In her gentle voice
the woman said:
“That will be nice.” Then suddenly she
groaned with pain. “Joseph, I think the baby is coming, my water
just broke.”

By that point I had
started to slide down the donkey. And suddenly I was almost washed
off by this rush of fluid that came at me. I was able to hold on, and
to be honest I was very happy for all that refreshing moisture.

The man made the
donkey go even faster then. He led us from one house to another,
asking if he and the woman could stay there. They all said no.
Finally he turned to the woman and said:

“Its no use Mary,
none of my cousins remember me or my father. I guess we will have to
try that inn over there”

And so he led the
donkey across a square to an old inn. It sounded very busy. There was
lots of light pouring out the windows and doors. The man left us on
the walk and went up to the door. I could just barely hear him
pleading with the innkeeper, saying that his wife was having a baby
and they needed a place. He was gone a long time. All the while the
woman kept groaning. It seemed she was about to fall off the donkey.

Finally he came
back. He didn't sound happy.

“Well they say
they are full, and I don't have enough money to change their minds.
But they told me we can go out back and stay with the animals.”

The woman said:

“That will be
better than the middle of the street. Hurry Joseph, I need to get off
the donkey. It is almost time.”

So the man Joseph
led us around behind the building. There was a little shelter back
there with a few animals tied up inside. Joseph helped the woman off
the donkey and settled her on a pile of straw.

“Is that ok Mary?
Are you going to be alright?”

All the woman could
do was grunt.

Then there were
voices approaching. Women were coming. When they got to where we
were one of them said:
“Thee innkeeper sent for me. I am the
local midwife. I am here to help. Let me see how things are going.”

I sort of lost track
for a while then. Joseph started to unload and brush off the donkey
and in that process I got flung off into a corner. But at least there
I was safe. Nobody would step on me over there. While I couldn't see
anything, I could hear everything.

It appears the woman
was having her baby. It seems much easier to just lay eggs like us
snails do. But apparently that is not how it happens with humans.
There was a lot of screaming. The woman who called herself midwife
kept trying to calm Mary down. Meanwhile I found a nice little puddle
in my corner and settled in.

Still I listened. I
heard Mary say that this was a special baby. She talked about a visit
from an angel who told her that the baby was God's baby. It didn't
sound like the midwife believed her. Joseph talked about a visit he
had from an angel who told him the same thing. They talked about how
this baby was going to change the world. I have to admit I didn't
really know quite what they mean. After all, I am only a snail and
really don't know much about the world.

Then it was done.
The baby was born. Did I mention that laying eggs seems much easier?
Anyway everybody was very happy. The baby let out a loud scream and
then quietened down. But there was something odd.

From my corner I saw
this bright light shining. And I was sure I could hear music. And for
some reason I felt just so happy. Everybody's voices had gone quiet,
and all the animals too. At that point I knew I had to see the baby.
So I started to move over toward the light.

As I crept over
toward the manger two things happened. The light got brighter and the
music got louder. At first I thought it was just music but as it got
louder and clearer I could hear voices. Sweet soft voices singing the
baby to sleep. The pigeons in the rafters joined in the song. I can
see why. You just couldn't help but sing when you heard that song. It
drew you in somehow.

And the light. How
can I describe it. Normally when you spend your life so close to the
ground you see a lot of shadows. All the lights are up high and
blocked by people or objects. But this was different. The light
seemed to just be there, no shadows. I think it was coming from the
baby but even then there was no shadow from the manger. The light
just shone through everything
and everybody.

Just
as I started to get closer to the manger, almost close enough to
start thinking about climbing up one of the legs, there was a new
noise. A bunch of shepherds came rushing up yelling and shouting.
They were very excited. And they had big clumsy feet. I had to slide
under a piece of wood to avoid getting squashed.

The
shepherds rushed in, but as soon as they saw the baby they stopped
dead. They just stood there in silence for a while. Then they told a
story. They talked about angels appearing to them. They said they had
been told that this baby was the Messiah. They said that they had
been told to find a baby lying in a manger, wrapped up in bits of
cloth – just like this baby
here.

The
shepherds started to sing “Glory to God in the Highest! Peace on
earth, good will to men”. They said this is what the angels had
sung to them. They stayed and
watched the baby sleep for a while. Eventually the sheep came
wandering in and laid down beside the manger. Then the shepherds
gathered the sheep and headed back out of town. I could hear them
singing and shouting as they went, telling everyone what had happened
that night.

Still
there was the music and the light. Making things seem so calm, so
special.

Just
as dawn was breaking I finally got to the top of the manger. And I
could see the baby. Even with all that light shining, light that
should have blinded me, I could see him. And looking at him I was
sure that somehow things would be alright. Even for us snails.

I
slid down into the hay he was lying on. And just sat there looking at
him, listening to the song, and feeling very content. But
it was exciting too. I knew why the shepherds had been singing and
shouting. I wanted to dance and sing! Sadly I can't do such things.
So instead I sat there and watched and listened.

After
a few days the family left. I stayed behind.
I had had enough traveling for the lifetimes of many many snails.
But every time a new animal comes in, as we rest in the night, I tell
the story of the Baby. And sometimes, as I tell it, I hear the song
again and the manger seems to glow a little bit...